


Invitation Only

by Verai



Series: Corrections [2]
Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, D/s, F/M, Light Bondage, Medium Honor Arthur Morgan, Rough Sex, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-21
Updated: 2019-04-21
Packaged: 2020-01-23 02:17:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18540265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Verai/pseuds/Verai
Summary: It’s been 5 months since the incident in the interrogation room. Arthur hasn’t left your mind for a minute, and when he gets out early on good behavior, he leaves you his phone number. Do you call him so he makes good on his promise to show you a real good time? Or do you forget about him and live a normal life once more?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Y’all asked for a sequel, and I decided it was a good idea. Diving a bit more into the Dominant/submissive stuff.

It had been 5 months since Arthur seduced you in the interrogation room, 5 months of heated sessions wherever he could find a moment alone with you. You’re pretty sure you’ve seen the ceiling and the floor of every closet in this place. And yet somehow, neither of you had been caught. Arthur had always come prepared with a cover story, telling you exactly what to say if someone found the two of you. Usually it involved you playing a victim, and though you didn't like it, you knew it was the most believable excuse. 

 

Fortunately, no one ever found out; if you two got caught, you’d lose your job, but Arthur would have it worse; he’d be thrown into solitary and any good points he may have racked up would be discarded. You didn’t want that for him; you had started to care, which you knew was a huge no-no. But you kept your poker face on, and as far as you could tell, no one could tell that you favored him over any of the other prisoners.

 

When the higher-ups told you to prepare Arthur for release, you felt conflicted. On one hand, you were glad he was leaving; he was distracting, and you were pretty sure that other prisoners who had been somewhat difficult for you to control before were suddenly cowed. You didn't like the idea of someone protecting you behind your back. On the other hand, you were sad because every time the two of you managed to sneak away, the sex was explosive and amazing. You had never been so well fucked in your life. It was as if he knew exactly what you needed, and though you weren't a docile flower, with Arthur you found yourself just doing whatever he wanted, and it was always satisfying. 

 

“Hi,” you said casually as you opened up his cell that afternoon to tell him the news. 

 

He said your name softly as he sat up. He had been lying on his cot, reading a book.

 

“Apparently you're being released tomorrow on good behavior.”

 

Arthur smiled at you. “Guess no one knows about my extracurriculars.”

 

You suppressed a smile, opting to just ignore his comment. “Someone else will come by to process you, but I just wanted to let you know first.”

 

He nodded and flipped to the back of his book, tearing off part of a page. “Here. Write down the number I'm about to tell you.”

 

Raising an eyebrow, you did as asked. 

 

“Lookin’ forward to hearin’ from ya.”

 

You blinked at him and just slipped the paper into your pocket. You weren't expecting this. You wanted to throw the paper away and get back to a normal life, without the amazingly good, but very inappropriate sex. 

 

However, as Arthur watched you mulling over this, he reminded you of what he had told you that first time in the interrogation room.

 

“I promised you a real good time, didn't I?”

 

Without saying anything else, you backed away, closed his cell, and left quickly, your mind overwhelmed with the possibilities. 

 

***

 

A week came and went. Then another. And soon it was the middle of the third week after Arthur was gone, and you were feeling restless. You would come back from work, tired and grumpy, and flop into bed, touching yourself furiously to the thoughts of big, strong arms wrapped around you, memories of how hard he fucked your brains out spurring you to a subpar climax. 

 

It was never enough. You always felt incomplete; something was missing, and you hesitated to admit what that something was. Feeling terribly unsatisfied, you often tossed and turned in your sleep. After one too many restless nights, you snapped at someone at work, and came home feeling terrible. Slouching onto your couch, you looked at your phone, pulling out the piece of paper that Arthur had given you from your wallet. You smiled when you noticed the words on the page.

 

_...later on he will understand how some men so loved her, that they did dare much for her sake. _

 

You smiled; the final words from  _ Dracula _ , speaking of Mina Harker. Early on, you had casually mentioned that she was an underappreciated heroine, and how you hated her depiction in modern movies. You were touched that he actually remembered.

 

Sighing, you punched in his phone number and hovered over the call button. Did you really miss him that much? 

 

You quickly deleted the number. Staring at your phone for a few more minutes, you opened the Messages app and typed in his number there.

 

_ Hi. _

 

You hit send and put your phone down, getting up to make some dinner.

 

A second later, your phone rang. Jumping in surprise, you stared at the number in disbelief.

 

Fuck it. You hit the answer button.

 

“Missed you,” his deep voice sounding so good to you at this moment. “What took you so long?”

 

“I… had to think about it,” you answered.

 

“And if you went by impulse?”

 

“...I would’ve called you right away,” you admitted, much to your chagrin.

 

He laughed softly, the sound making you heat up with desire. “You free tonight?”

 

You were. In fact, tomorrow was your day off, so you could play around all night.

 

Wait, were you serious about hooking up with a former prisoner?

 

“Yeah, I’m free tonight,” you said before you questioned yourself further.

 

“Can I come over?”

 

Your silence went on long enough that Arthur had to speak again. “Why don’t you pick me up? You can blindfold me so I don’t know where you live. Would that make you feel safer?”

 

You nodded, but realized he couldn’t see you. ‘Y-yes, that’ll work.”

 

He told you where and when to pick him up. You had some time, so you showered and cleaned your apartment up a little bit before leaving. You lived in a one-bedroom; there was a small living space to the left, with a couch against the wall next to the door and a TV against the opposite wall. The kitchen took up the far right side of the space, with barely enough space for a small table & two chairs, up against the wall beneath the window that was next to the front door. In between the TV space and the kitchen was a small hallway, with a door to the right that opened to the bathroom, while straight ahead was your bedroom, which was really just a glorified closet; you barely could fit your queen size bed in there.

 

You threw on a T-shirt and some yoga pants over some sexy underwear, then cleaned up what you could in ten minutes. Then you headed to your car, feeling excited. But while driving, you questioned yourself, wondering if you were making a wise decision, or if you were just following your damn hormones. But as you drove up to the parking lot of the park across town and saw him leaning against a tree, his arms crossed, showing off his biceps, looking so damn good in a T-shirt and jeans, you dropped all your inhibitions. You wanted him to take you so hard that you couldn’t think anymore.

 

Arthur saw your car and walked over. Your eyes followed the sway in his gait, and you suddenly grew impatient, wanting him with an intensity you could not ignore. Getting into the passenger seat and putting his backpack at his feet, he looked at you expectantly.

 

“Blindfold?”

 

Crap. You forgot.

 

“I got one,” he said, reaching into his backpack and pulled out a black bandana. He blindfolded himself, and you tested him by waving your hands in front of him several times. It looked like he was really unable to see. You drove around in a zig zag for a few blocks anyway, just to be safe.

 

It occured to you that in the morning, unless you drove him back home blindfolded as well, he could figure out where you lived. Or he could just take out his phone and save the location in his Maps app.

 

“You know, don’t worry about the blindfold,” you finally said. “Your phone will probably save the location automatically anyway.”

 

Arthur reached into his pocket and pulled out a flip phone. “Mine’s not that fancy.”

 

You almost ran a red light, as flabbergasted as you were when he pulled out that old relic. Who in this day and age still had a flip phone? 

 

Shaking your head in disbelief, you just drove home, wondering about the sanity of what you were about to do. You glanced over at him as he sat back in the passenger seat; he was clean-shaven, his hair shorter than it was when he was in prison. There was a small smile on his face, like a man who knew he would get some tonight, and you couldn’t fault him for that.

 

***

 

“We’re here. You can take the blindfold off.”

 

He took it off and stuffed it back in his backpack. You eyed the pack for a second, wondering what else was in there. Was he intending to stay the night? You weren’t against the idea, but it seemed pretty arrogant to assume as much.

 

Who were you kidding. Of course you were going to let him stay.

 

Following you through the underground parking lot to the stairwell, Arthur was quiet except for the solid thud of his boots behind you. As you climbed to the third floor, you glanced over your shoulder; he was surveying his surroundings, his eyes darting to the walls, the ceiling, and then back to you, where he caught your eyes and smiled reassuringly. You smiled back, nervous, and turned your head forward again, rounding the corner to your apartment. You stuffed the key into the lock and jiggled the handle slightly as you always had to, but with your hands shaking slightly, you couldn’t get it opened.

 

“Let me,” Arthur said softly, stepping up from behind you. His presence was overwhelming as his hands wrapped gently around yours. He took the key from your hand, and as if by magic, he shifted the key in the lock in just the right way. He turned the handle and your door opened with no effort at all.

 

You looked up at him, remembered that he had been in prison for burglary, and let out a shuddering breath. “You… you’re good at that.”

 

“I’m good at opening all kinds of things,” he said with a smirk. You turned away from him quickly and practically ran inside, with him following right behind you and locking the door. He looked around your apartment.

 

“Shouldn’t you get your landlord to fix the lock?” he asked as he took his boots off at the door like you did. You shrugged as you threw your hoodie jacket onto the couch.

 

“He doesn’t care unless it’s fully broken,” you groused, going into the kitchen to get a glass of water. “You want anything to drink?”

 

“Y’got any whiskey?”

 

You made a face. “Nope, sorry. I got one last IPA in the fridge.”

 

It was Arthur’s turn to make a face. “I’ll pass.”

 

You shrugged and turned your back on him to drink your water over the sink. You needed a moment to think. To breathe. What were you doing?

 

The sounds of Arthur padding over and stopping behind you distracted you from your inner turmoil. He touched your shoulders, leaning down to kiss the back of your neck. You breathed in shakily, and Arthur took your glass of water and chugged the rest before putting the glass in the sink. You turned in his arms.

 

“Ar… Arthur?”

 

He held your chin, his thumb stroking your lower lip. “I need to know somethin’.”

 

“What?” you whispered.

 

“Do you trust me?”

 

You scoffed. You barely knew him. But as he kept running sensual circles on your skin with his thumb, staring at you with his almost turquoise eyes, you so desperately wanted to trust him.

 

“If I do anything that you don’t want, just say ‘cherries’, and I’ll stop immediately.”

 

You raised an eyebrow. “Is… is that my safe word?” You were peripherally aware of BDSM, what with a certain trashy book becoming a popular trashy movie that your friends wouldn’t stop talking about, greatly to your annoyance. But the idea of this man dominating you, making you do whatever he said, jolted pleasure straight to your core.

 

He nodded. Arthur had never given you a safe word before. He just  _ knew _ what to do, never crossed any lines, just made you feel good and wanted. The fact that he gave you a way to stop him meant that he was going to push your limits tonight. 

 

You looked at him, hesitant.

 

“You must trust me a little bit. You invited me here.”

 

You looked away, unable to disagree.

 

Arthur gently turned your head back to face him. “Kiss me.”

 

You leaned forward and closed your eyes as you kissed him. He held your face with both hands and kissed you back passionately, and you fell into his rhythm, letting him drink you as he started to move backwards away from the kitchen and towards your room. As soon as he stepped through the door, he picked you up and fell on top of you on your bed, making sure to keep most of his weight from crushing you directly. His lips moved from yours to travel down your neck, stopping to kiss your collarbone before he looked up at you.

 

“Did you miss me?” he asked as he stood back up and took off his shirt. You nodded, speechless as you looked at his body; he was all muscles and scars, the sight of him heating you up like nothing else. You reached for him, but he grabbed your wrists and placed them above your head. 

 

“No touching unless I say so,” he commanded. 

 

You nodded. 

 

He stared down at you, waiting. 

 

“Yes, Sir,” you finally said. 

 

“That's my girl.” Rewarding you with a soft kiss on your forehead, he started to lift your shirt up, his hands caressing the soft curves of your belly, up to your breasts, wrapped in a sexy black lace bra. 

 

“This for me?” he asked, leaning over to lightly bite your nipple through the fabric. You shuddered at his playful nips on your skin, and when he lifted the bra over your breasts so he could palm them, playing with your nipples with thumb and forefingers, you nearly reached for him again. 

 

“Looks like I need to tie ya up,” he rumbled. Leaving the bed, he went to his backpack and pulled out a long black rope. It looked silky and soft, but you still looked at it dubiously. He placed it on the pillow next to your head, opting to lift you up into his lap as he sat back. Straddling his legs, you could feel his hard bulge straining against his jeans, and you ground against him, wanting him inside of you. 

 

“Let’s get these off,” he said as he pulled your shirt and bra off. He lay you back down and pulled off your yoga pants, stopping to admire the black lace thong you had chosen to wear. Keeping his eyes on yours, he bent over you, taking the lace in his teeth and pulling it down just far enough to reveal your wet center. He caressed your belly, then trailed his hand down until he was circling your clit, teasing you.

 

“Fuck, just touch me,” you demanded.

 

Arthur’s eyes darkened as he took his hand off you and flipped you over onto your stomach. A quick slap to your ass made you yelp.

 

“I make the demands here,” he growled. “You just do as I say.” He shoved two fingers inside of you, curling them inside you. “So wet already, my sweet girl. Do you need me?”

 

Swallowing your pride, you gave him the answer he wanted to hear. It was an answer you wanted to give. “Yes, Sir, I need you. Need you inside me. Please,” you begged.

 

You felt Arthur climb over you as he grabbed the rope and wrapped it around your wrists, then tied you to the headboard. You heard him unzip his jeans, and felt him resting his cock on the curve of your ass as he caressed and massaged your back and shoulders, turning you into a relaxed pile of jelly.

 

So while you were bonelessly lying there, he jerked his hips and shoved his cock inside you.

 

“Oh god!” you yelled, surprised by his sudden intrusion.

 

“You wanted this,” he growled as he wrapped his hand around your neck and started taking you, taking his time to make sure each stroke was hitting you as deeply as possible.

 

“I missed ya, sweetheart,” he said in a low voice as he fucked you into your bed. “Missed the sound of you taking my cock so good.”

 

You moaned in response, lifting your ass up so he could get in deeper. You had really missed this, his hands stroking you and holding you down as he took his pleasure from you, using your body like he owned it. 

 

“Took so long to call me,” he growled, sounding a bit more intimidating than normal. It sent a thrill through you. “Disobedient girls need to be punished, don’t you think?”

 

“Yes Sir,” you breathed.

 

He pulled away to slap your ass again, and with each squeak and groan you made, it spurred him on, slapping you harder in different places, until you felt your skin heat and burn with a hot, painful pleasure that only he could give.

 

“You learn your lesson?” he demanded.

 

“Yes!” you almost yelled.

 

He grabbed a fistful of your hair, pulling you back. Leaning over you, he gripped your jaw and turned your head towards him. He kissed you hard, bruising your lips and forcing his tongue into your mouth. 

 

“Yes, what?” he snarled.

 

“Yes Sir!”

 

“Good girl.”

 

Whenever he said that to you, in that deep gravelly voice of his, your body felt a zing of happiness, and you knew it was dangerous, to be this intoxicated by one man’s voice, one man’s words. But at the moment, you wanted nothing more than to be utterly possessed, and yielded your body to him completely.

 

And he took it, ramming himself inside of you over and over again, pulling out just long enough to flip you onto your back and bend your legs back so he could hover over you and watch as you lost yourself. He reached down and toyed with your clit, bringing you to the brink before pulling his hand away. You screamed in frustration, so close to completion, but hyper-sensitive as he continued to fuck you.

 

“You wanna come, sweet girl?”

 

“Yes, please, please let me come,” you sobbed.

 

“Your beggin’ sounds so delicious,” he rumbled. “Touch yourself, show me your face when you come.”

 

You quickly reached down and fingered your clit as he kept pounding into you, his hands grabbing and squeezing your breasts. Looking up into his eyes, your climax slammed into you, your breath stolen by the intensity. You hadn’t felt this good in weeks, and you rode out that feeling for as long as you could, until your long moan had subsided and you were trying to catch your breath.

 

Arthur still rocked inside of you, so turned on by watching you. His eyes were hooded as he fell upon you, not bothering to keep his weight off you as he crushed you beneath his large body, his hips continuing to pump into you.

 

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful when you come,” he gasped into your ear. “Beg for me again,” he demanded.

 

You begged for him to come inside you, begged him to use you as his cock sleeve, begged him in the dirtiest way you knew. And it worked wonders, because he came hard, moaning your name and filling you up with his pent up seed; it was so much you felt it slip outside of you even before he finished coming.

 

Arthur let out a satisfied sigh, reaching up to untie you. He kissed each of your wrists before pulling you into his arms, stroking your hair.

 

“Darlin’,” he mumbled against your forehead. You looked up at him and he graced you with a sexy smile.

 

“Were… were you waiting for me?” you asked.

 

Arthur smiled. “Of course. Wanted to fill you up real good.” He pulled you closer and whispered into your ear. “So you know you’re mine.”

 

You shivered at his possessiveness. This addiction was dangerous. You barely knew the man, but you wanted him in your bed every night. You wanted to spend more time with him. You were starting to think you might want him a little too much.

 

Arthur seemed to sense the change in your mindset. He tipped your chin up so he could look you in the eyes. “Speak your mind, sweet girl.”

 

Unable to disobey, you spoke the truth. “I’m not normally like this. I don’t know how to reconcile the normal me and the me that just wants to do everything you say.” Your eyes widened at your own confession. This put you in a position of weakness and you hated it.

 

Arthur smiled at you and took your hands in his. “You're a strong woman. And you have desires that contradict that, but that’s okay. I'm more than willin’ to give you anything you need, just tell me.”

 

“Why? We barely know each other.”

 

He held your hand to his lips. “We know each other just fine. Because you trust me with your body every time we meet.” He kissed your fingers, one by one, as he gazed at you tenderly. “And I treasure your trust in me.”

 

You just about cried. He was too much, saying all the right things to soothe your heart. 

 

“Besides,” he added, “you’re the one who’s really got the power. My job is to make sure you’re happy and safe.”

 

You noticed the glimmer of something in his eyes, something more than just affection. Your brain started putting pieces together, of all your interactions, of all your couplings. As he held you close, rubbing your back and making you feel all warm and fuzzy inside, you came up with a theory, that you thought might have been crazy, if he hadn’t said that last thing to you.

 

Arthur might be a Dom. And you suspected he wanted you to be his sub.


	2. Side Story: Arthur's First Day Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a side story of the day that Arthur is released from prison. Provides some backstory to the general plot, but isn't really needed to enjoy the other fics.

Arthur walked away from the corrections facility, feeling strange to be back in street clothes. He waved at Charles, who was leaning against his dark blue Ford Ranger, a few boxes in the back.

“Got some of your stuff. The rest is still in storage until you find your own place,” he said, handing him a Carl’s Jr takeout bag. “And your favorite.”

Arthur grinned as he took the bag from him and pulled out the Western double bacon cheeseburger. “You’re the best.”

“I know,” Charles grinned back, clapping Arthur on the shoulder. “Good to see you again. You can crash at my place for now, but tomorrow, you need to get yourself a job and a place to stay. Got leads on both.”

Arthur just nodded his thanks; he had done the same for Charles after he was in prison for a few months for beating a man, but once it got out that he did it to protect the man’s ex-girlfriend, the judge had given him a much lighter sentence. Charles was a loyal and dependable friend, and usually the level-headed one of the two of them, as long as he could keep his anger in check. Charles was a selective firecracker, going off at any kind of injustice if it was perpetrated against a woman. Arthur knew he had some past event that triggered his response, but he never asked, and Charles never told him outright, always skirting the issue. Charles would tell him when he felt like it, and Arthur would wait until he was ready.

They both got in the car and drove towards the city. It was a relatively small city made up of a denser downtown surrounded by suburbs and industrial buildings, with a few strip malls to entertain the citizens. 

“I got your tools back, by the way,” Charles commented.

“You didn’t hafta do that. You could’ve gotten caught like me.”

“I’m a better thief than you ever were.”

“Thanks, asshole.”

Charles laughed. “They’re in storage too. Glad you don’t have much, otherwise I wouldn’t have agreed to move all your stuff.”

As they drove on a few winding roads through the main part of town and out towards the more rural areas, Arthur noted several constructions projects in downtown.

“So… construction?”

“Yup. They won’t question you too much; they hired me, and half the crew has been in jail at some point or another in their lives. The foreman’s a good man. I put in a good word for you, so all you have to do is nail the interview.”

Arthur shrugged. It was work he could do, and it would let him stay in town. He thought of you, with your lovely body that sang under his hands, and let out a slow breath. All he wanted was to be with you, to feel you under him, submitting to his every whim, trusting him to bring you to the highest pleasure.

“Arthur?”

He looked back at Charles, who was giving him a look. “What?”

“You found someone, didn’t you?”

“How…?”

Charles laughed. “You had that intense look in your eyes. I called out to you a couple of times, but you were completely gone.”

“You know me too well.”

“Yeah, and I had to get you out of your slump when they weren’t what you thought.”

Arthur shook his head. “Not this time. She’s perfect.”

Charles side-eyed him. “You, um, meet her in prison?”

Looking back out the window, Arthur just grunted an affirmative.

“Arthur…”

“It’ll be fine. We didn’t get caught, and now that I’m out, there’s nothing stopping me from making her mine.”

Charles just shook his head. He had seen Arthur’s last two relationships, saw how depressed he got after both of them had left him high and dry after he had doted on them for so long. 

“There’s a small scene here. You could just—”

“Nah. They’s usually the types that’re lookin’ for some kicks for the night before they go back to their normal lives. They don’t live like that.”

Charles shrugged. He knew Arthur had... certain tastes. Hell, he had the same tastes, after all. They had been bouncers at a BDSM club, with Arthur working his way to head of security, before they found out it was a front for the Van der Linde family’s schemes. They booked it as soon as they could, but not before the feds started sniffing around, marking the two of them as suspiciously close to the family. They didn’t know shit, but they also didn’t want to say anything to the feds one way or the other; after all, Hosea had been a great boss, and Arthur really cared for everyone working there, helping a few of them find new jobs and move away before he left. 

Charles thought Arthur was crazy for going after a prison staff member. But he also didn’t want to push him; he’d let Arthur make his own decisions.

“Alright, if you’re sure. Hope things work out with you and her.”

Arthur just nodded and kept staring out the window, watching as Charles started to drive towards a small apartment complex, his new home until he found his own place. He was lost in thoughts of you, and what he wanted to do to you when you contacted him. 

Because despite the conflicted look you gave him on his last day, he could tell you wanted more. And he was more than willing to give it to you. To give you everything you desired.

**Author's Note:**

> This is purely self-indulgent; I wanted hot, rough sex followed by soft tender aftercare, but now I think this is becoming a bigger story. Also I HC Arthur as a whiskey and lager kind of guy. No IPAs for him. And finally, as I do, this Arthur is probably staying as medium honor, kind of like the chaotic neutral alignment in Dungeons and Dragons.


End file.
